Siddhartha

During his visit to Chicago, my brother gave me two books to imbibe and ponder over- The Stranger by Albert Camus and Siddhartha by Herrman Hesse. Both were absolutely profound and the best part (or worst depending on how you take it) is the scope of these works. The Stranger talks about absurdity of life, and facing death. I was more enamored by Siddhartha. I hear Siddhartha is text book material for high school kids in the US. Which is very surprising because in my mind, the content is difficult to grasp for teenagers. Maybe 25-30 is a good age for a first time reading. Im sure I will need to keep revisiting the book as I age. Here are a couple favorite passages from the book. I wish I could fully understand the essence. But understanding is not enough if one is unable to realize from within or act on it....
1. Indeed his soul was not with trade. The business was good enough to provide him with the money for Kamala, and it earned him much more than he needed. Besides from this, Siddhartha's interest and curiosity was only concernd with the people, whose businesses, crafts, worries, pleasures, and acts of foolishness used to be as alien and distant to him as the moon. However easily he succeeded in talking to all of them, in learning from all of them, he was still aware that there was something which separated him from them and this separating factor was him being a Samana. He saw mankind going through life in a childlike manner, which he loved and also despised at the same time. He saw them toiling, saw them suffering, and becoming gray for the sake of things which seemed to him to be entirely unworthy of this price, for money, for little pleasures, for being slightly honoured, he saw them scolding and insulting each other, he saw them complaining about pain at which a Samana would only smile, and suffering because of deprivations which a Samana would not feel.

2. Siddhartha bent down, picked up a stone from the ground, and weighed it in his hand. "This here," he said playing with it, "is a stone, and will, after a certain time, perhaps turn into soil, and will turn from soil into a plant or animal or human being. In the past, I would have said: This stone is just a stone, it is worthless, it belongs to the world of the Maja; but because it might be able to become also a human being and a spirit in the cycle of transformations, therefore I also grant it importance. Thus, I would perhaps have thought in the past. But today I think: this stone is a stone, it is also animal, it is also god, it is also Buddha, I do not venerate and love it because it could turn into this or that, but rather because it is already and always everything— and it is this very fact, that it is a stone, that it appears to me now and today as a stone, this is why I love it and see worth and purpose in each of its veins and cavities, in the yellow, in the gray, in the hardness, in the sound it makes when I knock at it, in the dryness or wetness of its surface. There are stones which feel like oil or soap, and others like leaves, others like sand, and every one is special and prays the Om in its own way, each one is Brahman, but simultaneously and just as much it is a stone, is oily or juicy, and this is this very fact which I like and regard as wonderful and worthy of worship.—But let me speak no more of this. The words are not good for the secret meaning, everything always becomes a bit different, as soon as it is put into words, gets distorted a bit, a bit silly—yes, and this is also very good, and I like it a lot, I also very much agree with this, that this what is one man's treasure and wisdom always sounds like foolishness to another person."

Here is a link to a free online copy http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2500/2500-h/2500-h.htm#2H_4_0014

Interior with Girl at the Clavier

Of late, art and music have begun to assume a greater importance in my life.

Creation and appreciation of art are critical to the progression of the human intellect. With this lofty ideal, I enrolled for oil painting lessons in the Evanston Art Center last summer. During the final few lessons, one is expected to copy a master from a big Art book of acclaimed paintings. As I was browsing through pages of Van Gohs, Pollocks and other big names I had never heard of, one painting by Vilhelm Hammershoi caught my eyes- Interior with girl at the Clavier (do google for this image). Now, I love the piano and believe that some of the most beautifully complicated pieces are written for the piano. The painting is a serene composition centering a woman playing the piano in a room. Very realistic and its almost like you are behind her in the room listening to music. A table (ceramic plates and clean white table cloth) is placed between the observer and the subject and this gives a sense of perspective. Interestingly enough, I found the backdrop of the painting most captivating. The light (source on top left is not revealed) suffuses the wall with dabs of purple and blue (making the painting almost impressionist) and gradually fades away as we reach the right side. Notice the play of light on the picture frames, the woman's neck and lamp...Without second thoughts, I asked my instructor if I could paint this in 4 classes (3 hrs each). He said it would take him about 15-20 hrs. I insisted on moving ahead and started putting brush on canvas sometime in May/June. During mid October, I was in a frenzy to finish it before and almost got tired of making revisions and adding layers and layers of paint. Till date I haven't had a chance to complete it (table cloth fold running right through the plate!). Presenting my girl at the clavier and hoping I will be able to revisit her at some point...

Drama in the Desert

Its been three years since I first watched the English Patient. I was in my final semester at school and had armed myself with loads of free hours to explore the award winning flicks. Then there was a second viewing..then a third...last week was probably my seventh..I show it to friends and try to sense if the movie strikes a chord with them. I am a compulsive channel changer while watching TV - always chasing what I may be missing rather than stop and indulge in the present. Yet it is almost an obsession for this movie that stops, when I read the title, my fingers from seeking the next-best-thing to watch. Till the last of the credits trickle in , for as long as it takes, I sit there watching, mesmerised and drawn into Almachy and Katherine's world - A world of deserts, storms, betrayal, war and strong poetic love..Its cinematography is complemented by soul stirring music - a blend of classical and folk , thought provoking dialogues match the calibre of its outstanding cast -thats perfect cinema for you. The plot, though appears complex, is deflty handled and seamlessly moves between flashback episodes and the end of WW2. Ralph Fiennes is the English Patient, severly burned and miraculously revived, waiting for the air to leave his lungs while memories linger. Juliette Binoche is the unlucky nurse ( that decides to stay in a ruined Italian villa taking care of Almasy (Ralph). Kip (a fine, subtle portrayal by Naveen Andrews) is an Indian sapper with the British army who falls in love with Juliette. Willem Dafoe plays a Canadian spy seeking revenge against Almasy. Almasy's love affair with Katherine, a married woman, is the central theme of the movie with the WW2 serving as a fitting backdrop. The movie talks about the insignificance of boundaries on maps and that the only boundaries that really matter are emotional and are embedded deep within. An interesting line from the movie: A supremely possesive Almasy accuses Katherine of betrayal after their break-up- "I've watched you - on verandahs, at Garden Parties, at the Races – how can you stand there? How can you ever smile? As if your life hadn't capsized?". To which Kathrine retorts "Do you think you're the only one who feels anything? Is that what you think?". English Patient- A treat for drama lovers.

Basically

Let's go for dinner, its getting late! * How's the lassi, the sun has no mercy * Just a sec, I need to use the restroom * ...and the wise king drank the poisoned wine * These idlis are soft as pillows * I dropped dead in bed last night * Ah this is so filling * Go wash your feet, its not hygenic! * How much sugar? * 30 seconds on the microwave * Ma'am, there is a 50% discount on this bed * How was the food last nite? * I can't stop craving chocolates! * Oh! what a relief! * Don't move around, I wake up every time.. * Can you pass the water and.. what were you saying? * Gents * It is a painting of an old man sitting on the mud floor with his mouth eager, open and about to take in a handful of rice * Why did you stop? * ...and when you drink the last glass, thats when it hits you... * He loved the payasam with cardamoms and now I can never make it for anyone else * Damn, there is no bathroom tissue * One large pizza with Jalapeno and pineapples, easy on cheese * The next time you spill, I'll make u stand in the corner facing the walls for an hour * Coffee, Coffee, Coffee * Come outside soon!! * Oh god, can you do that again? * Last nite I had the same dream * I'm so full I can’t walk * Hold on for some more time * ...and what happened to your table manners? * I love the shape of the top half of the bread * Excuse me, where is the nearest restroom? * U should either sleep or walk * Some cant go in without a newspaper * I need some rest, I can hardly keep my eyes open * That tastes so much like vadaam ille? * Ill be a just a minute * ..and whenever we ate those Hersheys, me and my brother hugged each other * Im sitting and you are standing..pleese get some water! * Never slept in anything like this before * Im a hungry boy. * But there was too much salt! * Drink tonnes of water * Come let's grab some food * The line ouside is so long!! * Incoming cheap outgoing free * The aroma fills the air * Yes, just a little higher * zzzzz *

Whispers and the moon

Yes he thought and no he said lest she should burn his hands
Free the mind with love behind and put the pain in sand
Lost in woods with stones in pants he went searching for water
Eyes in tears and growing fears she ran her body after

One last look was all it took to pick his soul and soar
Breathing fresh with mint inhales he felt the river roar
Filled with moon and light and breeze she knot her raven hair
Feet in cold and waves in her she tucked her thoughts with care....

Cooligadgeous hot piper

Somewhere in the middle of it all lies caramel delights with swivel mops and milk’s favorite cookie. The rules of the games are dangerous enough that I will not participate. Tonight we are having our own circus of “When the prices are right”. Smile is a teeth whitener. The wider the whiter. As the news was heard, the worse weather conditions became worser and later severely persisted in the cereberum. Till the cooling mint of the good news flowed through the bloods and cooled. Babies open their mouths and gasp for no apparent reason. Soft innocence brutally shattered by awareness of the id. A straight line is only as straight as the orientation. The shadow of the moon on the black waters by the dreamy island is there. Re-exhibiting sophisticated dimples always works to your favour. The ultimate accomplice I have got at 3:45 was to herald the new visual era of audio visual relief through triple effect genres.
Sparkling feathers and mystical might, wont heave you of delight.
Hickory dickory dock, hickory dickory dock.
Sparkling feathers and mystical might, wont heave you of delight.
Hickory dickory dock, hickory dickory dock ( and so on….)

August it will be

Charismatic leaders don’t need pizza to prove their meticulous design of tower sweeping ant hills down the blank document. Record breaking rummaging was never the actual socio geo politico agenda for the charming humming hippos of middle eastern cuisines. What size are you in the inter galactic special light cones of the humongous red bell pepper hummous?
Perched high below the bottom, one cant ask for lack of forgiveness.
The greatest problem with Gandhi was that he left his followers aeons behind.
General templates of networking agencies copy colors in black widows.
As she blinked, her lashes swept the gust of wind that blew him to the depths of joy and pain.
Smoooth with an extra makes it smooother. Envelops carrying antelopes are designing ball point pens as a meaningless pursuit of red scarves. Now read the previous line once more. Actually if you are following the rules, you should never get to this line. Since you cheated, read the previous line once more.
Alright now it is crystal that since you are a non-conformist, once ridden on the wild winds of August and hence August it will be.